I start to make camp and realize that this is the first time, in over seven years, that I will sleep next to things other than my bear. People. Sleep next to people. People who didn’t try to hurt Winnie…
It’s too much: too many people, too much death, too much blood.
When things get to be too much, I take myself away from whatever’s going on. Winnie and I go farther away from the group, farther away from the fire, and I lay my back against her as she gets comfortable. While it is too much…
It’s not enough, either: not enough warmth, not enough safety, not enough food.
I starve myself, sometimes, to make sure Winnie has enough to eat. My mom did it for me, and I do it for Winnie. Mom thought I didn’t know. But when Dad would come back with only two fish, he’d eat one, and Mom would give me most of the second one. Sometimes, it feels like Winnie knows what I do for her. We’re down to the last six strips of beef jerky.
I know she still must be hungry. Gary was tiny. Maybe that’s mean, saying a guy is tiny, but he was. There couldn’t have been much to him, and Winnie is a big girl who needs her food. Gary was already dead – shot and decapitated – and, to me, it would have been a waste for Winnie not to eat him.
I pull out one of the last six strips of beef jerky and stare at it. If Winnie eats it now, as a reward for eating Gary, we’ll only have five left. It’s the least I can do, though.
Gary said he wanted to join the horsemen. I doubt we would have met him again. He couldn’t have said anything about knowing us, either – the Horsemen would be angry that he hadn’t killed us then. But Virgil… Virgil shot him. I look over at him and wonder what’s going on in his head. Is he torn? Is he happy? Does he even remember that he killed a man only hours ago? Is this the first person he’s killed? Is that how he’s just sitting there?
I killed someone, once. The person who had Winnie before me, when she was only a cub. Would I kill him again, if I had the chance? Yes. But would I kill again? I hug my legs to my chest and rest my chin on my knees, piece of beef jerky still in my hand.
My eyes wander to the second person I ran into today. Up a tree. I don’t understand why he was so high up a tree. I prefer not to know. Spying on me is the least of my worries. I don’t like to let the thought of suicide cross my mind, even though it does. I refuse to believe anything other than my aunt being shot through the head by a horsemen. I have a thing against screaming – my uncle found his wife and screamed. If I can stop one scream, make it better… that’s when I feel like I’ve accomplished something.
I watch Mercury shiver, even though he is right next to the fire. It’s cold out, sure, but not that cold, and he’s right by the fire. I shiver and snuggle into Winnie when his silver eyes meet mine. I’ve seen grey eyes, blue, brown, even black and green, but never silver. Mercury can’t be his real name. I decide to say nothing; if someone doesn’t want to share their real name, they shouldn’t have to.
If Mercury or Virgil shoot me in my sleep, neither of them would live to see another minute. Winnie, angry, is a sight no one wants to see. I have no problem dying. At least, I think I don’t. Nothing can be worse than this. Sure, I prefer not to die, but I’m not going to leave the only companionship I’ve known in seven years – I will give it a chance.
Kid scoots closer to Winnie. When we ran into him, he said he didn’t have parents – no name, for that matter. Mercury calls him Kid; it kind of stuck. He has one pair of well-worn shorts and a small pack. He has no clothes on his top. There are a whole bunch of tattoos on his chest. I have no idea what they are, but I saw Virgil writing them in his notebook earlier.
I uncurl and look at the piece of beef jerky; it’s still in my hand after all of this. I turn and offer it to Winnie. Her brown eyes are wide in the dim light. We stare at each other for a while and I wish I could understand what she’s thinking; it would make things so much easier. After an eternity, she nudges me with her snout.
“Thanks.”
I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Virgil gazes around aimlessly. Mercury shivers, and his silver eyes are turned away from me. Kid and his naked-top scuttle closer to the fire.
Naked top. I found a shirt today, didn’t I? I’m not used to worrying about anyone but myself and Winnie. It’s going to take some getting used to. I grab my backpack to find the shirt and pause. Do I want to get used to it? I thought I was just along for the ride…
Just below the shirt I find something equally as valuable to me as Winnie – my last chocolate bar. The last present Dad gave me before he died. I loved chocolate before that. Still do, but now it’s bittersweet. Especially this one. I put it back in my bag, and sigh.
“Hey, Kid.”
I meant to say that, this time. Three pairs of eyes meet mine and, maybe, just maybe, I didn’t tell Winnie thanks earlier. I give him the shirt and it fits. I don’t hear his thanks but curl back into Winnie.
It’s too much: too many people, too much death, too much blood.
It’s not enough: not enough warmth, not enough safety, not enough food.
I eat the piece of jerky and the pain in my stomach lessens.
I start to make camp and realize that this is the first time, in over seven years, that I will sleep next to things other than my bear. People. Sleep next to people. People who didn’t try to hurt Winnie…
It’s too much: too many people, too much death, too much blood.
When things get to be too much, I take myself away from whatever’s going on. Winnie and I go farther away from the group, farther away from the fire, and I lay my back against her as she gets comfortable. While it is too much…
It’s not enough, either: not enough warmth, not enough safety, not enough food.
I starve myself, sometimes, to make sure Winnie has enough to eat. My mom did it for me, and I do it for Winnie. Mom thought I didn’t know. But when Dad would come back with only two fish, he’d eat one, and Mom would give me most of the second one. Sometimes, it feels like Winnie knows what I do for her. We’re down to the last six strips of beef jerky.
I know she still must be hungry. Gary was tiny. Maybe that’s mean, saying a guy is tiny, but he was. There couldn’t have been much to him, and Winnie is a big girl who needs her food. Gary was already dead – shot and decapitated – and, to me, it would have been a waste for Winnie not to eat him.
I pull out one of the last six strips of beef jerky and stare at it. If Winnie eats it now, as a reward for eating Gary, we’ll only have five left. It’s the least I can do, though.
Gary said he wanted to join the horsemen. I doubt we would have met him again. He couldn’t have said anything about knowing us, either – the Horsemen would be angry that he hadn’t killed us then. But Virgil… Virgil shot him. I look over at him and wonder what’s going on in his head. Is he torn? Is he happy? Does he even remember that he killed a man only hours ago? Is this the first person he’s killed? Is that how he’s just sitting there?
I killed someone, once. The person who had Winnie before me, when she was only a cub. Would I kill him again, if I had the chance? Yes. But would I kill again? I hug my legs to my chest and rest my chin on my knees, piece of beef jerky still in my hand.
My eyes wander to the second person I ran into today. Up a tree. I don’t understand why he was so high up a tree. I prefer not to know. Spying on me is the least of my worries. I don’t like to let the thought of suicide cross my mind, even though it does. I refuse to believe anything other than my aunt being shot through the head by a horsemen. I have a thing against screaming – my uncle found his wife and screamed. If I can stop one scream, make it better… that’s when I feel like I’ve accomplished something.
I watch Mercury shiver, even though he is right next to the fire. It’s cold out, sure, but not that cold, and he’s right by the fire. I shiver and snuggle into Winnie when his silver eyes meet mine. I’ve seen grey eyes, blue, brown, even black and green, but never silver. Mercury can’t be his real name. I decide to say nothing; if someone doesn’t want to share their real name, they shouldn’t have to.
If Mercury or Virgil shoot me in my sleep, neither of them would live to see another minute. Winnie, angry, is a sight no one wants to see. I have no problem dying. At least, I think I don’t. Nothing can be worse than this. Sure, I prefer not to die, but I’m not going to leave the only companionship I’ve known in seven years – I will give it a chance.
Kid scoots closer to Winnie. When we ran into him, he said he didn’t have parents – no name, for that matter. Mercury calls him Kid; it kind of stuck. He has one pair of well-worn shorts and a small pack. He has no clothes on his top. There are a whole bunch of tattoos on his chest. I have no idea what they are, but I saw Virgil writing them in his notebook earlier.
I uncurl and look at the piece of beef jerky; it’s still in my hand after all of this. I turn and offer it to Winnie. Her brown eyes are wide in the dim light. We stare at each other for a while and I wish I could understand what she’s thinking; it would make things so much easier. After an eternity, she nudges me with her snout.
“Thanks.”
I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Virgil gazes around aimlessly. Mercury shivers, and his silver eyes are turned away from me. Kid and his naked-top scuttle closer to the fire.
Naked top. I found a shirt today, didn’t I? I’m not used to worrying about anyone but myself and Winnie. It’s going to take some getting used to. I grab my backpack to find the shirt and pause. Do I want to get used to it? I thought I was just along for the ride…
Just below the shirt I find something equally as valuable to me as Winnie – my last chocolate bar. The last present Dad gave me before he died. I loved chocolate before that. Still do, but now it’s bittersweet. Especially this one. I put it back in my bag, and sigh.
“Hey, Kid.”
I meant to say that, this time. Three pairs of eyes meet mine and, maybe, just maybe, I didn’t tell Winnie thanks earlier. I give him the shirt and it fits. I don’t hear his thanks but curl back into Winnie.
It’s too much: too many people, too much death, too much blood.
It’s not enough: not enough warmth, not enough safety, not enough food.
I eat the piece of jerky and the pain in my stomach lessens.
It’s just right: chaos, comfort, and company.